


A Pink Sky

by Fandomology1



Series: Last Memories [1]
Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: District 4, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hair Braiding, Pre-70th Hunger Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 17:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5505986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandomology1/pseuds/Fandomology1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on one of Finnick's last memories, a pink sky. It is the eve of the reaping of the 70th Annual Hunger Games; Annie's Games. Finnick and Annie spent a night on the beach together. Odesta fluff. Last Memories series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pink Sky

Annie sighed. He was late again. Shifting in the sand, she wrapped her arms around her knees and hugged them to herself. She hadn’t seen Finnick since this morning, when he had waved while walking next to Mags. They had been heading up to Victor’s Village to do whatever it was Victors did before a reaping. Finally, as the edge of the horizon faded and Annie couldn’t tell where the water ended, she heard footsteps. The rhythm and sound of familiar feet in the sand tempted Annie, but she didn’t turn around. Only when Finnick had settled himself down beside her did she look at him. He looked troubled, but that was to be expected. It was his fourth year being a mentor. She wondered just how you could bear to walk around the District and see all of the possible tributes that could be reaped. Annie placed her hand lightly on Finnick’s jaw and he let his eyes shut. She noticed the shadows beneath them. He really was worried then. Probably for her. She turned 19 in under two months, but she was still eligible for the reaping tomorrow. Finnick, despite being a Victor and already safe, was 19 already, so he had survived the Games. As she stroked his temple he opened his eyes and his eyes drifted slowly to her face. As their eyes met, he leaned forward, grasped her face, but didn’t kiss her. His hands slid to her neck and tightened and didn’t let her go.

“Finn.” Annie whispered.

He said nothing, but tucked his face into her neck. She flinched at a sudden wetness running down her neck. Tears. Annie ran a hand down her neck, surprised. Finnick leaned back and watched her sadly. Surprising herself, Annie leaned forward and pressed her lips to one of his tears on his cheek. His face was wet and he made no move to dry it. This had happened previously during the four evenings before the 66th through 69th reapings. There just were more tears this time. Finally Finnick spoke, his eyes tortured as he increased the volume to shouting.

“I just can’t take it anymore! I can’t do this! I can’t have more two kids die! Do you know what it feels like to watch the kids you promised you would get out of there die?! To be their last hope, their families last hope! No! You don’t know! And you can never know what it feels like to be in the Games!”

At this Finnick broke down sobbing; awful, terrible, whole-body shaking sobs. Annie moved to him and held his head against her. For a long time she held him, and eventually the anguished sounds subsided. Finnick, finally quieted, slid down and rested his head in Annie’s lap. The sounds of their breathing and the water were then the only noises.

Finnick looked up at Annie and after meeting his gaze, she looked out at the water. The waves were comforting to both of them. After some time Annie moved Finnick’s head off her and slid down beside him. They lay simply holding hands. While the sky darkened they both turned their gazes skyward. It was Finnick who spoke up at last.

“I bet I can find the first star to tonight.”

“You’re on, Finn, but what do I get when I win?”

“A kiss?”

“But I can already get one of those.” Just to prove it, she leaned over and stole one. 

Finnick smiled but evened the score by getting one of his own.

“Yes, but so can I.”

Silence took over once again until Finnick pointed upward excitedly with his free hand. 

“There! Do you see? I win!”

Annie sighed, seeing the lone bright spot in the dark sheet above. “Yes, I suppose you do win. Would you like your prize?”

As a response Finnick leaned over her and placed his arms about her head. He slowly bent his head down, allowing him to watch her. Annie closed her eyes in anticipation, and she was not disappointed. Only their lips touched, but the familiar sparks exploded without fail. There was no light, just the sensation Annie loved. A soft noise told her Finnick was gripping sand between his fingers. As the kiss deepened, she moved her arms up to him and touched the sensitive place where his hair met his neck. She tightened her fingers on the strands woven around her fingers as she felt him lean back. Not making a noise of protest but wanting to, she opened her eyes to see twins of her own.

Even as her hands dropped Annie felt a surge of longing. She threw her arms around his neck again and watched as this time Finnick closed his eyes in preparation. She waited a moment before kissing his soft lips. Sparks again. Wonderful, sweet, glorious sparks. Annie shut her eyes as Finnick’s hands came up and held her face tenderly. Adding to the sparks as he stroked her cheeks were rushes of warmth. The warmth faded as he leaned back and let his hands fall into his lap. Ocean air filled Annie’s lungs once, then twice as she inhaled.

Then, before she could react, Finnick picked her up bridal style. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. Laughing, he ran out to the water before she could protest. He was all too soon hip-deep in the water, his shorts clinging to his legs. “Sorry, just had to pee,” was his explanation.

“Finnick!” Annie scolded. She playfully slapped his back as she hid her face in his shoulder. His voice rumbled again through her hands as they slid down to rest on his chest.

“Just kidding.” As she pulled her head away, he smiled and set her down in the water. Annie dug her toes into the smooth sand, but stopped curling them when she felt Finnick’s feet slide under hers. She was gliding her hand across the water but stopped and wrapped it around Finnick’s neck as she saw what he was doing. Dancing. Circling over and over, they moved smoothly through the water. It was, of course, natural to be comfortable in something you were practically raised in.

And they were; eventually Finnick fell back and with hardly a sprinkle of water, started floating. He tucked his arms behind his head and gazed up at the uncountable number of stars. Annie silently took her place beside him and like every time their hands found each other. Ripples made a constant noise against them but it was this sound that held the most peace for the couple.

After a stretch, Finnick stood up, still clutching Annie’s hand. He pulled her to her feet and they stood together, listening to the water run off them into the ocean.

Annie and Finnick trekked slowly back to the shore, the waves surrounding them. Finnick tugged Annie after him as he walked along the shore parallel to the water. They walked until they were dry; watching each other, the water, the sand the sky. Still not speaking, the two turned as one and made their way back, following the lonely footprints to return.

Finnick led her over to a rock sticking out of the sand. He gestured for her to sit on the sand and he seated himself behind her on the rock. After they both were settled, with Annie staring out into the darkness knowing what was going to happen, Finnick started. He began by playing with Annie’s hair. First, running his fingers through it, he got rid of the sand in the dark waves. He plaited a section, his fingers nimble with the tresses like he had spent his whole life weaving Annie’s hair. This was almost right, because he had so much experience working with knots. Annie just sat peacefully, motionless. She delighted in the feeling of Finnick’s hands and the night with him.

Just as Annie detected the faintest lightening of the sky across the water, Finnick stopped his motions, done. Annie ran her hand along the intricate braid. A beautiful, entwined Dutch side braid. Finnick didn’t comment but she knew. For the Reaping. He hadn’t wanted to think about that yet, with the morning still belonging to them for a time. Finnick slipped down off the rock and to Annie. She turned to him and curled into his side, with her head on his chest. He settled his arm around her and the pair remained silent. They didn’t sleep, but Annie closed her eyes and appreciated her home. And Finnick. Said boy was again watching the sky as it lightened. As the sun got even closer to peeking over the horizon, he sat up, taking Annie with him. She crawled into his lap farther and they both watched the sunrise.

As with all beautiful things, the sunrise seemed too swift to both Finnick and Annie. The sky was streaked with many colors as the sun rose. Red, orange, yellow and the finale – pink. Finnick sighed as he realized they both had to go. Annie knew and slid off of Finnick. She stood up and offered a hand to Finnick. They both stood up and looked out the water. They both turned and headed back to the center of the District. The last thing Finnick before he turned toward the Capital was the sky. A pink sky.


End file.
